FOOTNOTES:

1Ther stod drick paa felde,der druck kiemper snile.2Der druck innde her Ion Runnd,och ryder och her Rosenns-wannd.3'Høre du, her Ion Rund, kiere stolbroder mynn,vilttu icki gifftis ennd?'4'Ieg ved icki denn yomffru y dette rigeder yeg lader were minn lige.'

1Ther stod drick paa felde,der druck kiemper snile.

2Der druck innde her Ion Runnd,och ryder och her Rosenns-wannd.

3'Høre du, her Ion Rund, kiere stolbroder mynn,vilttu icki gifftis ennd?'

4'Ieg ved icki denn yomffru y dette rigeder yeg lader were minn lige.'

For knights and others to ride into hall, and up to the high board, is quite according to use. Every one will remember the passage in Chaucer's Squire's Tale, vv 30 ff. So again in Sir Perceval, Thornton Romances, p. 19, xxxi; Sir Degrevant, the same, p. 227, lxxvi; Libius Disconius, Percy MS., Hales and Furnivall, II, 486, v. 1951 (Skeat); Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 8 ff, p. 111, v. 332; Perceval le Gallois, ed. Potvin, II, 125, vv 12,640-50; Messire Gauvain, p. 27, p. 146; Mabinogion, I, 70, 303 f, II, 257; Stowe's Survey of London (vol. II, book VI, p. 48, ed. 1720, following Walsingham), cited by Percy in his Essay on the Ancient Minstrels, Reliques, I, xli, lxxxvii, ed. 1794; Warton's History of English Poetry, II, 172, note d, ed. 1840.

The champion of England formerly rode into Westminster Hall in the coronation ceremony, but this part of the spectacle was omitted from the two last coronations.

King Estmere stables his steed at the hall board. Here again the minstrel is within the bounds of custom. "On voyait au moyen âge, dans la salle des chefs gallois, d'énormes crampons de fer, fixés au pavé de distance en distance, qui servaient aux chevaliers pour attacher leurs chevaux, car ils y entraient souvent avec eux; quelques-uns les conduisaient même jusque dans leur chambre à coucher:" Villemarqué, Les Romans de la Table Ronde, etc., 1860, p. 416 (cited by Liebrecht).

For bribing to secrecy with an arm-ring, stanza 47, see, also, Grundtvig, No 82,A14, 15,B20, 21; No 95,D16, 17, Kristensen, I, No 96, 16; Grundtvig, No 233,A18,B12,D13; No 274,A21.

Translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 1; by Bodmer, I, 27; Herder, I, 195; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, No 14.

1Hearken to me, gentlemen,Come and you shall heare;Ile tell you of two of the boldest bretherThat ever borne were.2The tone of them was Adler Younge,The tother was Kyng Estmere;The were as bolde men in their deedsAs any were, farr and neare.3As they were drinking ale and wineWithin his brother's hall,'When will ye marry a wyfe, brother,A wyfe to glad us all?'4Then bespake him Kyng Estmere,And answered him hartilye:'I know not that ladye in any land,That's able to marrye with mee.'5'Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,Men call her bright and sheene;If I were kyng here in your stead,That ladye shold be my queene.'6Saies, Reade me, reade me, deare brother,Throughout merry England,Where we might find a messengerBetwixt us towe to sende.7Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother,Ile beare you companye;Many a man throughe fals messengers is deceived,And I feare lest soe shold wee.8Thus the renisht them to ryde,Of twoe good renisht steeds,And when the came to King Adlands halle,Of redd gold shone their weeds.9And when the came to Kyng Adlands hall,Before the goodlye gate,There they found good Kyng AdlandRearing himselfe theratt.10'Now Christ thee save, good Kyng Adland;Now Christ you save and see:'Sayd, You be welcome, King Estmere,Right hartilye to mee.11'You have a daughter,' said Adler Younge,'Men call her bright and sheene;My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,Of Englande to be queene.'12'Yesterday was att my deere daughterThe king his sonne of Spayn,And then she nicked him of naye,And I doubt sheele do you the same.'13'The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,And 'leeveth on Mahound,And pitye it were that fayre ladyeShold marrye a heathen hound.'14'But grant to me,' sayes Kyng Estmere,'For my love I you praye,That I may see your daughter deereBefore I goe hence awaye.'15'Although itt is seven yeers and moreSince my daughter was in halle,She shall come once downe for your sake.To glad my guestës alle.'16Downe then came that mayden fayre,With ladyes laced in pall,And halfe a hundred of bold knightes,To bring her [from] bowre to hall,And as many gentle squiers,To tend upon them all.17The talents of golde were on her head setteHanged low downe to her knee,And everye ring on her small fingerShone of the chrystall free.18Saies, God you save, my deere madam,Saies, God you save and see:Said, You be welcome, Kyng Estmere,Right welcome unto mee.19'And, if you love me, as you saye,Soe well and hartilee,All that ever you are comen aboutSoone sped now itt shal bee.'20Then bespake her father deare:My daughter, I saye naye;Remember well the kyng of Spayne,What he sayd yesterdaye.21'He wold pull downe my halles and castles,And reave me of my lyfe;I cannot blame him if he doe,If I reave him of his wyfe.22'Your castles and your towres, father,Are stronglye built aboute,And therefore of the king his sonne of SpaineWee neede not stande in doubt.23'Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng Estmere,By heaven and your righte hand,That you will marrye me to your wyfe,And make me queene of your land.'24Then Kyng Estmere he plight his troth,By heaven and his righte hand,That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,And make her queene of his land.25And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre,To goe to his owne countree,To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes,That marryed the might bee.26They had not ridden scant a myle,A myle forthe of the towne,But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With kempës many one.27But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With manye a bold barone,Tone day to marrye Kyng Adlands daughter,Tother daye to carrye her home.28Shee sent one after Kyng Estmere,In all the spede might bee,That he must either turne againe and fighte,Or goe home and loose his ladye.29One whyle then the page he went,Another while he ranne;Till he had oretaken King Estmere,I-wis he never blanne.30'Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere!''What tydinges nowe, my boye?''O tydinges I can tell to you,That will you sore annoye.31'You had not ridden scant a mile,A mile out of the towne,But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With kempës many a one.32'But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With manye a bold barone,Tone daye to marrye King Adlands daughter,Tother daye to carry her home.33'My ladye fayre she greetes you well,And ever-more well by mee;You must either turne againe and fighte,Or goe home and loose your ladye.'34Saies, Reade me, reade me, deere brother,My reade shall ryse at thee,Whether it is better to turne and fighte,Or goe home and loose my ladye.35'Now hearken to me,' sayes Adler Yonge,'And your reade must rise at me;I quicklye will devise a wayeTo sette thy ladye free.36'My mother was a westerne woman,And learned in gramarye,And when I learned at the schole,Something shee taught itt mee.37'There growes an hearbe within this field,And iff it were but knowne,His color, which is whyte and redd,It will make blacke and browne.38'His color, which is browne and blacke,Itt will make redd and whyte;That sworde is not in all EnglandeUpon his coate will byte.39'And you shal be a harper, brother,Out of the north countrye,And Ile be your boy, soe faine of fighte,And beare your harpe by your knee.40'And you shal be the best harperThat ever tooke harpe in hand,And I wil be the best singerThat ever sung in this lande.41'Itt shal be written in our forheads,All and in grammarye,That we towe are the boldest menThat are in all Christentye.'42And thus they renisht them to ryde,Of tow good renisht steedes,And when they came to King Adlands hall,Of redd gold shone their weedes.43And whan the came to Kyng Adlands hallUntill the fayre hall-yate,There they found a proud porter,Rearing himselfe thereatt.44Sayes, Christ thee save, thou proud porter,Sayes, Christ thee save and see:'Nowe you be welcome,' sayd the porter,'Of what land soever ye bee.'45'Wee beene harpers,' sayd Adler Younge,'Come out of the northe countrye;Wee beene come hither untill this placeThis proud weddinge for to see.'46Sayd, And your color were white and redd,As it is blacke and browne,I wold saye King Estmere and his brotherWere comen untill this towne.47Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,Layd itt on the porters arme:'And ever we will thee, proud porter,Thow wilt saye us no harme.'48Sore he looked on Kyng Estmere,And sore he handled the ryng,Then opened to them the fayre hall-yates,He lett for no kind of thyng.49Kyng Estmere he stabled his steedeSoe fayre att the hall-bord;The froth that came from his brydle bitteLight in Kyng Bremors beard.50Saies, Stable thy steed, thou proud harper,Saies, Stable him in the stalle;It doth not beseeme a proud harperTo stable his steed in a kyngs halle.51'My ladde he is so lither,' he said,'He will doe nought that's meete;And is there any man in this hallWere able him to beate?'52'Thou speakst proud words,' sayes the king of Spaine,'Thou harper, here to mee;There is a man within this halleWill beate thy ladd and thee.'53'O let that man come downe,' he said,'A sight of him wold I see;And when hee hath beaten well my ladd,Then he shall beate of mee.'54Downe then came the kemperye man,And looked him in the eare;For all the gold that was under heaven,He durst not neigh him neare.55'And how nowe, kempe,' said the kyng of Spaine,'And how, what aileth thee?'He saies, It is writt in his forhead,All and in gramarye,That for all the gold that is under heaven,I dare not neigh him nye.56Then Kyng Estmere pulld forth his harpe,And plaid a pretty thinge;The ladye upstart from the borde,And wold have gone from the king.57'Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,For Gods love I pray thee;For and thou playes as thou beginns,Thou'lt till my bryde from mee.'58He stroake upon his harpe againe,And playd a pretty thinge;The ladye lough a loud laughter,As shee sate by the king.59Saies, Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harper,And thy stringës all;For as many gold nobles thou shalt haveAs heere bee ringes in the hall.'60'What wold ye doe with my harpe,' he sayd,'If I did sell itt yee?''To playe my wiffe and me a fitt,When abed together wee bee.'61'Now sell me,' quoth hee, 'thy bryde soe gay,As shee sitts by thy knee;And as many gold nobles I will giveAs leaves been on a tree.'62'And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,Iff I did sell her thee?More seemelye it is for her fayre bodyeTo lye by mee then thee.'63Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,And Adler he did syng,'O ladye, this is thy owne true love,Noe harper, but a kyng.64'O ladye, this is thy owne true love,As playnlye thou mayest see,And Ile rid thee of that foule paynimWho partes thy love and thee.'65The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,And blushte and lookt agayne,While Adler he hath drawne his brande,And hath the sowdan slayne.66Up then rose the kemperye men,And loud they gan to crye:'Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,And therefore yee shall dye.'67Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde,And swith he drew his brand,And Estmere he and Adler YongeRight stiffe in stour can stand.68And aye their swordes soe sore can byte,Throughe help of gramarye,That soone they have slayne the kempery men,Or forst them forth to flee.69Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye,And marryed her to his wiffe,And brought her home to merry England,With her to leade his life.

1Hearken to me, gentlemen,Come and you shall heare;Ile tell you of two of the boldest bretherThat ever borne were.

2The tone of them was Adler Younge,The tother was Kyng Estmere;The were as bolde men in their deedsAs any were, farr and neare.

3As they were drinking ale and wineWithin his brother's hall,'When will ye marry a wyfe, brother,A wyfe to glad us all?'

4Then bespake him Kyng Estmere,And answered him hartilye:'I know not that ladye in any land,That's able to marrye with mee.'

5'Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,Men call her bright and sheene;If I were kyng here in your stead,That ladye shold be my queene.'

6Saies, Reade me, reade me, deare brother,Throughout merry England,Where we might find a messengerBetwixt us towe to sende.

7Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother,Ile beare you companye;Many a man throughe fals messengers is deceived,And I feare lest soe shold wee.

8Thus the renisht them to ryde,Of twoe good renisht steeds,And when the came to King Adlands halle,Of redd gold shone their weeds.

9And when the came to Kyng Adlands hall,Before the goodlye gate,There they found good Kyng AdlandRearing himselfe theratt.

10'Now Christ thee save, good Kyng Adland;Now Christ you save and see:'Sayd, You be welcome, King Estmere,Right hartilye to mee.

11'You have a daughter,' said Adler Younge,'Men call her bright and sheene;My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,Of Englande to be queene.'

12'Yesterday was att my deere daughterThe king his sonne of Spayn,And then she nicked him of naye,And I doubt sheele do you the same.'

13'The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,And 'leeveth on Mahound,And pitye it were that fayre ladyeShold marrye a heathen hound.'

14'But grant to me,' sayes Kyng Estmere,'For my love I you praye,That I may see your daughter deereBefore I goe hence awaye.'

15'Although itt is seven yeers and moreSince my daughter was in halle,She shall come once downe for your sake.To glad my guestës alle.'

16Downe then came that mayden fayre,With ladyes laced in pall,And halfe a hundred of bold knightes,To bring her [from] bowre to hall,And as many gentle squiers,To tend upon them all.

17The talents of golde were on her head setteHanged low downe to her knee,And everye ring on her small fingerShone of the chrystall free.

18Saies, God you save, my deere madam,Saies, God you save and see:Said, You be welcome, Kyng Estmere,Right welcome unto mee.

19'And, if you love me, as you saye,Soe well and hartilee,All that ever you are comen aboutSoone sped now itt shal bee.'

20Then bespake her father deare:My daughter, I saye naye;Remember well the kyng of Spayne,What he sayd yesterdaye.

21'He wold pull downe my halles and castles,And reave me of my lyfe;I cannot blame him if he doe,If I reave him of his wyfe.

22'Your castles and your towres, father,Are stronglye built aboute,And therefore of the king his sonne of SpaineWee neede not stande in doubt.

23'Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng Estmere,By heaven and your righte hand,That you will marrye me to your wyfe,And make me queene of your land.'

24Then Kyng Estmere he plight his troth,By heaven and his righte hand,That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,And make her queene of his land.

25And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre,To goe to his owne countree,To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes,That marryed the might bee.

26They had not ridden scant a myle,A myle forthe of the towne,But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With kempës many one.

27But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With manye a bold barone,Tone day to marrye Kyng Adlands daughter,Tother daye to carrye her home.

28Shee sent one after Kyng Estmere,In all the spede might bee,That he must either turne againe and fighte,Or goe home and loose his ladye.

29One whyle then the page he went,Another while he ranne;Till he had oretaken King Estmere,I-wis he never blanne.

30'Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere!''What tydinges nowe, my boye?''O tydinges I can tell to you,That will you sore annoye.

31'You had not ridden scant a mile,A mile out of the towne,But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With kempës many a one.

32'But in did come the kyng of Spayne,With manye a bold barone,Tone daye to marrye King Adlands daughter,Tother daye to carry her home.

33'My ladye fayre she greetes you well,And ever-more well by mee;You must either turne againe and fighte,Or goe home and loose your ladye.'

34Saies, Reade me, reade me, deere brother,My reade shall ryse at thee,Whether it is better to turne and fighte,Or goe home and loose my ladye.

35'Now hearken to me,' sayes Adler Yonge,'And your reade must rise at me;I quicklye will devise a wayeTo sette thy ladye free.

36'My mother was a westerne woman,And learned in gramarye,And when I learned at the schole,Something shee taught itt mee.

37'There growes an hearbe within this field,And iff it were but knowne,His color, which is whyte and redd,It will make blacke and browne.

38'His color, which is browne and blacke,Itt will make redd and whyte;That sworde is not in all EnglandeUpon his coate will byte.

39'And you shal be a harper, brother,Out of the north countrye,And Ile be your boy, soe faine of fighte,And beare your harpe by your knee.

40'And you shal be the best harperThat ever tooke harpe in hand,And I wil be the best singerThat ever sung in this lande.

41'Itt shal be written in our forheads,All and in grammarye,That we towe are the boldest menThat are in all Christentye.'

42And thus they renisht them to ryde,Of tow good renisht steedes,And when they came to King Adlands hall,Of redd gold shone their weedes.

43And whan the came to Kyng Adlands hallUntill the fayre hall-yate,There they found a proud porter,Rearing himselfe thereatt.

44Sayes, Christ thee save, thou proud porter,Sayes, Christ thee save and see:'Nowe you be welcome,' sayd the porter,'Of what land soever ye bee.'

45'Wee beene harpers,' sayd Adler Younge,'Come out of the northe countrye;Wee beene come hither untill this placeThis proud weddinge for to see.'

46Sayd, And your color were white and redd,As it is blacke and browne,I wold saye King Estmere and his brotherWere comen untill this towne.

47Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,Layd itt on the porters arme:'And ever we will thee, proud porter,Thow wilt saye us no harme.'

48Sore he looked on Kyng Estmere,And sore he handled the ryng,Then opened to them the fayre hall-yates,He lett for no kind of thyng.

49Kyng Estmere he stabled his steedeSoe fayre att the hall-bord;The froth that came from his brydle bitteLight in Kyng Bremors beard.

50Saies, Stable thy steed, thou proud harper,Saies, Stable him in the stalle;It doth not beseeme a proud harperTo stable his steed in a kyngs halle.

51'My ladde he is so lither,' he said,'He will doe nought that's meete;And is there any man in this hallWere able him to beate?'

52'Thou speakst proud words,' sayes the king of Spaine,'Thou harper, here to mee;There is a man within this halleWill beate thy ladd and thee.'

53'O let that man come downe,' he said,'A sight of him wold I see;And when hee hath beaten well my ladd,Then he shall beate of mee.'

54Downe then came the kemperye man,And looked him in the eare;For all the gold that was under heaven,He durst not neigh him neare.

55'And how nowe, kempe,' said the kyng of Spaine,'And how, what aileth thee?'He saies, It is writt in his forhead,All and in gramarye,That for all the gold that is under heaven,I dare not neigh him nye.

56Then Kyng Estmere pulld forth his harpe,And plaid a pretty thinge;The ladye upstart from the borde,And wold have gone from the king.

57'Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,For Gods love I pray thee;For and thou playes as thou beginns,Thou'lt till my bryde from mee.'

58He stroake upon his harpe againe,And playd a pretty thinge;The ladye lough a loud laughter,As shee sate by the king.

59Saies, Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harper,And thy stringës all;For as many gold nobles thou shalt haveAs heere bee ringes in the hall.'

60'What wold ye doe with my harpe,' he sayd,'If I did sell itt yee?''To playe my wiffe and me a fitt,When abed together wee bee.'

61'Now sell me,' quoth hee, 'thy bryde soe gay,As shee sitts by thy knee;And as many gold nobles I will giveAs leaves been on a tree.'

62'And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,Iff I did sell her thee?More seemelye it is for her fayre bodyeTo lye by mee then thee.'

63Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,And Adler he did syng,'O ladye, this is thy owne true love,Noe harper, but a kyng.

64'O ladye, this is thy owne true love,As playnlye thou mayest see,And Ile rid thee of that foule paynimWho partes thy love and thee.'

65The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,And blushte and lookt agayne,While Adler he hath drawne his brande,And hath the sowdan slayne.

66Up then rose the kemperye men,And loud they gan to crye:'Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,And therefore yee shall dye.'

67Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde,And swith he drew his brand,And Estmere he and Adler YongeRight stiffe in stour can stand.

68And aye their swordes soe sore can byte,Throughe help of gramarye,That soone they have slayne the kempery men,Or forst them forth to flee.

69Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye,And marryed her to his wiffe,And brought her home to merry England,With her to leade his life.

Readings of the manuscript, cited in Percy's notes, have been restored.14.Percy printsy-were.132.misprinted'leeve thon.342. shall ryde;sob.Compare 352, whereriseis said to be the reading of the MS.422. On tow good renish.Compare 82.593,thou shalt have,601,he sayd, are acknowledged changes, or additions, of Percy's.63. "Some liberties have been taken in the following stanzas; but wherever this edition differs from the preceding, it hath been brought nearer to the folio MS."Percy's note.681. can fyte.

Readings of the manuscript, cited in Percy's notes, have been restored.

14.Percy printsy-were.

132.misprinted'leeve thon.

342. shall ryde;sob.Compare 352, whereriseis said to be the reading of the MS.

422. On tow good renish.Compare 82.

593,thou shalt have,

601,he sayd, are acknowledged changes, or additions, of Percy's.

63. "Some liberties have been taken in the following stanzas; but wherever this edition differs from the preceding, it hath been brought nearer to the folio MS."Percy's note.

681. can fyte.

54.Omitsmy.64. Betweene us two.83. they came.92. yate.102. thee save.104. unto.124.Andwanting:I feare.151. yeare.152. Syth.153. downe once.165. eke as.166. To waite.172. Hunge.181, 2. Christ you save.183. Sayes.194. may bee.213. And ever I feare that paynim kyng.223. of that foule paynim.264. many a.272, 322. grimme barone.281. Then shee sent after.283. returne and.331. That ladye.343. Which waye we best may turne.344. To save this fayre.371. groweth.422. On towe good renish;soa.463. Ild saye.491. he light off.492. Up att the fayre hall.494. Light on.501. Stable thou.502. Goe stable.504. To stable him.513. And aye that I cold but find the man.521. sayd the Paynim kyng.524. That will.553. written.

54.Omitsmy.

64. Betweene us two.

83. they came.

92. yate.

102. thee save.

104. unto.

124.Andwanting:I feare.

151. yeare.

152. Syth.

153. downe once.

165. eke as.

166. To waite.

172. Hunge.

181, 2. Christ you save.

183. Sayes.

194. may bee.

213. And ever I feare that paynim kyng.

223. of that foule paynim.

264. many a.

272, 322. grimme barone.

281. Then shee sent after.

283. returne and.

331. That ladye.

343. Which waye we best may turne.

344. To save this fayre.

371. groweth.

422. On towe good renish;soa.

463. Ild saye.

491. he light off.

492. Up att the fayre hall.

494. Light on.

501. Stable thou.

502. Goe stable.

504. To stable him.

513. And aye that I cold but find the man.

521. sayd the Paynim kyng.

524. That will.

553. written.

56.Kyng Estmere then pulled forth his harpe,And playd thereon so sweete;Upstarte the ladye from the kynge,As hee sate at the meate.57.'Nowe stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,Now stay thy harpe, I say;For an thou playest as thou beginnest,Thou'lt till my bride awaye.'58.He strucke upon his harpe agayne,And playd both fayre and free;The ladye was so pleasde therattShe laught loud laughters three.59.'Nowe sell me thy harpe,' sayd the kyng of Spayne,'Thy harpe and stryngs eche one,And as many gold nobles thou shalt haveAs there be stryngs thereon.'

56.Kyng Estmere then pulled forth his harpe,And playd thereon so sweete;Upstarte the ladye from the kynge,As hee sate at the meate.

57.'Nowe stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,Now stay thy harpe, I say;For an thou playest as thou beginnest,Thou'lt till my bride awaye.'

58.He strucke upon his harpe agayne,And playd both fayre and free;The ladye was so pleasde therattShe laught loud laughters three.

59.'Nowe sell me thy harpe,' sayd the kyng of Spayne,'Thy harpe and stryngs eche one,And as many gold nobles thou shalt haveAs there be stryngs thereon.'

601. And what.

61.'Now sell me,' syr kyng, 'thy bryde soe gay,As shee sitts laced in pall,And as many gold nobles I will giveAs there be rings in the hall.'

622. her yee.654. hath Sir Bremor slayne.681. can byte.

622. her yee.

654. hath Sir Bremor slayne.

681. can byte.

FOOTNOTES:[58]"The editor... must plead guilty to the charge of concealing his own share in the amendments under some such general title as a Modern Copy, or the like:" Reliques, 1794, I, xvii. See, further, 'The Rising in the North' and 'Northumberland betrayed by Douglas,' in the same volume, pp 288, 297.[59]We havepaynimfour times in the first edition, and only twice in the fourth.And ever I feare that paynim king,b213, gives place toI cannot blame him if he doe.Laught loud laughters three,b584, was not (as who needs to be told?) the reading of the folio; but waslough a loud laughterthe reading of the folio?The statement that 'King Estmere' was "unfortunately torn out in sending the... piece to the press" is far from intelligible. Since readings were given from the manuscript in the fourth edition for the first time, one would suppose that the original was still in the editor's hands when that edition was prepared. But the three leaves from the manuscript would have been much less convenient to send to the press than the copy already three times printed in the Reliques; and Percy himself pleads in excuse for his taking out leaves from the manuscript, to save the trouble of transcribing, that he was very young, and "had not then learnt to reverence it." The readings from the manuscript, which first appear in the fourth edition, may possibly be from notes; one would hope that Percy would not trust his memory after the lapse of thirty years. Hales and Furnivall, I, lxxiv, II, 200; also II, 600 ff, where the texts of the first and of the fourth edition are printed in parallel columns.[60]Grundtvig, No 11,A-F, I, 159-69, IV, 715, and Kristensen, I, 246, No 93; Swedish,A, Arwidsson, II, 445,B-E, Grundtvig, IV, 720-22; Norwegian, Landstad, No 8; Icelandic, 'Ormars rímur,' in an abstract, Grundtvig, III, 775-77.[61]Derived from the Färöe ballad, 'Arngríms synir,' Hammershaimb, Færöiske Kvæder, p. 15, No 3; Hervarar saga, Örvar-Odds saga, Fornaldar Sögur, I, 411, II, 161, 504; etc. The pertinent chapters of the Hervarar saga are translated by Prior, I, 194, and 'Child Orm and the Berm Giant,' in the same volume, p. 132; the ballad also in the London Magazine, 1821, IV, 415, and by George Borrow, in Targum, or Metrical Translations from Thirty Languages and Dialects, St Petersburg, 1835, p. 59 (Grundtvig).[62]I, 384; translated by Prior, I, 297.[63]Grundtvig's Gamle Folkeviser, IV, 704-712.[64]Esmer, or something similar, is, as Grundtvig remarks, I, 236, a name of rather frequent occurrence. King Esmer is one of King Diderik's champions; Grundtvig, I, 78. Esmère is a name in Le dit de Flourence de Romme, Jubinal, Nouveau Recueil de Contes, etc., I, 93; Esmerés, or Essmer, in the Knight of the Swan, Reiffenberg and Borgnet, Le Chevalier au Cygne, III, 533, Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, II, 302. It may be added, though the fact certainly appears to be of but slight moment, that there is a King Easter, with a King Wester, in the ballad of 'Fause Foodrage,' and these are called in one version (Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. lix) the Eastmure King and the Westmure King. The fifteenth tale enumerated in The Complaint of Scotland is How the King of Estmure land married the King's daughter of Westmure land.

[58]"The editor... must plead guilty to the charge of concealing his own share in the amendments under some such general title as a Modern Copy, or the like:" Reliques, 1794, I, xvii. See, further, 'The Rising in the North' and 'Northumberland betrayed by Douglas,' in the same volume, pp 288, 297.

[59]We havepaynimfour times in the first edition, and only twice in the fourth.And ever I feare that paynim king,b213, gives place toI cannot blame him if he doe.Laught loud laughters three,b584, was not (as who needs to be told?) the reading of the folio; but waslough a loud laughterthe reading of the folio?The statement that 'King Estmere' was "unfortunately torn out in sending the... piece to the press" is far from intelligible. Since readings were given from the manuscript in the fourth edition for the first time, one would suppose that the original was still in the editor's hands when that edition was prepared. But the three leaves from the manuscript would have been much less convenient to send to the press than the copy already three times printed in the Reliques; and Percy himself pleads in excuse for his taking out leaves from the manuscript, to save the trouble of transcribing, that he was very young, and "had not then learnt to reverence it." The readings from the manuscript, which first appear in the fourth edition, may possibly be from notes; one would hope that Percy would not trust his memory after the lapse of thirty years. Hales and Furnivall, I, lxxiv, II, 200; also II, 600 ff, where the texts of the first and of the fourth edition are printed in parallel columns.

The statement that 'King Estmere' was "unfortunately torn out in sending the... piece to the press" is far from intelligible. Since readings were given from the manuscript in the fourth edition for the first time, one would suppose that the original was still in the editor's hands when that edition was prepared. But the three leaves from the manuscript would have been much less convenient to send to the press than the copy already three times printed in the Reliques; and Percy himself pleads in excuse for his taking out leaves from the manuscript, to save the trouble of transcribing, that he was very young, and "had not then learnt to reverence it." The readings from the manuscript, which first appear in the fourth edition, may possibly be from notes; one would hope that Percy would not trust his memory after the lapse of thirty years. Hales and Furnivall, I, lxxiv, II, 200; also II, 600 ff, where the texts of the first and of the fourth edition are printed in parallel columns.

[60]Grundtvig, No 11,A-F, I, 159-69, IV, 715, and Kristensen, I, 246, No 93; Swedish,A, Arwidsson, II, 445,B-E, Grundtvig, IV, 720-22; Norwegian, Landstad, No 8; Icelandic, 'Ormars rímur,' in an abstract, Grundtvig, III, 775-77.

[61]Derived from the Färöe ballad, 'Arngríms synir,' Hammershaimb, Færöiske Kvæder, p. 15, No 3; Hervarar saga, Örvar-Odds saga, Fornaldar Sögur, I, 411, II, 161, 504; etc. The pertinent chapters of the Hervarar saga are translated by Prior, I, 194, and 'Child Orm and the Berm Giant,' in the same volume, p. 132; the ballad also in the London Magazine, 1821, IV, 415, and by George Borrow, in Targum, or Metrical Translations from Thirty Languages and Dialects, St Petersburg, 1835, p. 59 (Grundtvig).

[62]I, 384; translated by Prior, I, 297.

[63]Grundtvig's Gamle Folkeviser, IV, 704-712.

[64]Esmer, or something similar, is, as Grundtvig remarks, I, 236, a name of rather frequent occurrence. King Esmer is one of King Diderik's champions; Grundtvig, I, 78. Esmère is a name in Le dit de Flourence de Romme, Jubinal, Nouveau Recueil de Contes, etc., I, 93; Esmerés, or Essmer, in the Knight of the Swan, Reiffenberg and Borgnet, Le Chevalier au Cygne, III, 533, Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, II, 302. It may be added, though the fact certainly appears to be of but slight moment, that there is a King Easter, with a King Wester, in the ballad of 'Fause Foodrage,' and these are called in one version (Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. lix) the Eastmure King and the Westmure King. The fifteenth tale enumerated in The Complaint of Scotland is How the King of Estmure land married the King's daughter of Westmure land.

Percy MS., p. 368; Hales and Furnivall, III, 3.

The copy of this ballad in the Percy manuscript, the only one known to exist, shows very great carelessness on the part of the transcriber, or of some predecessor. It begins with these two stanzas, which manifestly belong to an historical ballad, and have only a verbal connection with what follows:

Jesus, lord mickle of might,That dyed ffor us on the roode,To maintaine vs in all our right[65]That loues true English blood.Ffor by a knight I say my song,Was bold and ffull hardye;Sir Robert Briuse wold fforth to ffight,In-to Ireland ouer the sea.

Jesus, lord mickle of might,That dyed ffor us on the roode,To maintaine vs in all our right[65]That loues true English blood.

Ffor by a knight I say my song,Was bold and ffull hardye;Sir Robert Briuse wold fforth to ffight,In-to Ireland ouer the sea.

There is a large omission after the 125th verse (the 28th stanza as here printed), though the writing is continuous. There are also several difficult or unintelligible passages, even more than are usually met with in this manuscript.

As published in the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, I, 35, ed. 1765, I, 41, ed. 1794, 'Sir Cawline' is extended to nearly twice the amount of what is found in the manuscript, and a tragical turn is forced upon the story.

I have said that the copy of 'Sir Cawline' in the Percy manuscript is the only one known. There are nevertheless two Scottish ballads, one hitherto unpublished and one printed by Buchan, which narrate Sir Colvin's winning the king's daughter by vanquishing the elritch knight. These, I conceive, however, to be simple rifacimenti of the ballad in Percy's Reliques. They will be given in an appendix.

'Sir Cawline' may possibly be formed upon a romance in stanzas[66]which itself was composed from earlier ballads. There are two adventures in the ballad, one with an elritch knight, and a second with a five-headed giant who is at the same time a hend soldan, and there seem to be traces of another in the now unintelligible twenty-ninth stanza. The first adventure, though not of the same commonplace description as the second, is still by no means unique. We are immediately reminded of the beautiful romance of Eger, Grime and Gray-Steel: how Gray-Steel kept a forbidden country beyond seven days of wilderness, and how Grime slew the up to that time unmatched Gray-Steel with the sword Erkyin [Egeking], brought from beyond the Greekës sea, and cut off his hand, with fingers thrice a common man's size, and on every finger a gay gold ring.[67]Gray-Steel, to be sure, is pictured rather as a giant than an elf, but still gives the impression of something out of the ordinary, as having perhaps lost an elritch character in the course of tradition. The elritch knight in our ballad haunts the moors, far from any good town, like Grendel, who held the moors and fens, but there is only a hint of that supernatural terror which attends the awful "march-stepper" in Beówulf. Gervase of Tilbury has a story of an ancient entrenchment in the bishopric of Ely, where anybody could have a passage at arms with an unearthly warrior, by moonlight only, by simply calling out, "Come,knight, and meet knight."[68]Scott has introduced a spectral combat of this sort into his Marmion, CantoIII, xxiii-xxv, and in a note (4) cites a similar encounter from Heywood's Hierarchy of Blessed Angels. He adds that a forest in the North Highlands is believed to be haunted by a martial spirit called Lham-dearg, or Bloody Hand, who insists on all whom he meets doing battle with him. Villemarqué has a tale like that of Gervasius, Les Romans de la Table Ronde, etc., 1860, p. 392 f (Liebrecht). These combatants and combats are rather shadowy compared with Grendel, Gray-Steel, our Elritch King, and an encounter with them.

'Liden Grimmer og Hjelmer Kamp,' a ballad of the 'Orm Ungersvend' class, Grundtvig, No 26 (I, 352, from manuscripts of the 16th and the 17th century, IV, 762, from recent tradition), has the same remote and general resemblance to 'Sir Cawline' that 'Orm Ungersvend' has to 'King Estmere,' the points of agreement permitting the supposition of a far-off connection, or of no connection at all.[69]In DanishA, Grimmer, a young man who never went to a dance except with a drawn sword in his hand or sat down to table out of his corselet, sails to the heathen-king's land and asks him for his daughter. The king tells him that he will not get the fair maid unless he fights with Hjelmer Kamp and wins. The king's daughter, who is as favorably inclined to Grimmer as King Adland's daughter is to Estmere (and King Ardine's daughter to Adler), though in neither case has there been a previous meeting, tells him that no man ever came back from a fight with Hjelmer, and that Grimmer is far from understanding her father, who really wishes his death. Grimmer is not at all daunted, and so the lady gives him a sword with which he is sure to prevail. Thus equipped he makes sail for Hjelmer Kamp, who receives him with contemptuous remarks upon his size, but is presently cut to bits. Stopping only long enough to make boot of Hjelmer's gold, Grimmer returns to the heathen-king's court, and receives the princess in marriage. The resemblance of the Danish ballad is to be found in Cawline's second adventure, that with the giant, where the elritch sword represents the invincible weapon bestowed by the princess. In DanishBa coat of mail goes with the sword, "som icke skal suerd paa bide." This coat is like Estmere's after Adler has brought his magic to bear, and Cawline's fight with the giant, Estmere's with Bremor, and Hjelmer's with the kemp have all an obvious similitude.

Two verbal peculiarities in this ballad will not fail to be remarked: a superfluousand, 74, without and a good leedginge, 83, and take you doe and the baken bread, 271, and hee tooke then vp and that eldryge sword, 391, but take you doo and your lands broad, and again 261(?);forused, apparently, in the sense ofbut(as in "for and a shrouding sheet"), 113, ffor if you wold comfort me with a kisse, 133, ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe, 225, ffor they tooke and two good swords; in this last we have the superfluousandagain. These were, perhaps, only tricks of some ballad-singer, eking out his measure with half-articulated syllables.[70]

Percy's ballad is translated by Bodmer, I, 134, and by Bothe, p. 25; Buchan's by Gerhard, p. 32.

* * * * *1And inthat land dwells a kingWhich does beare the bell ouer all,And with him there dwelled a curteous knight,Sir Cawline men him call.2And he hath a ladye to his daughter,Of ffashyon shee hath noe peere;Knights and lordes they woed her both,Trusted to haue beene her feere.3Sir Cawline loues her best of onë,But nothing durst hee sayTo discreeue his councell to noe man,But deerlye loued this may.4Till itt beffell vpon a day,Great dill to him was dight;The maydens loue remoued his mind,To care-bed went the knight.5And one while he spread his armes him ffroe,And cryed soe pittyouslye:'Ffor the maydens louethat I haue most mindeThis day may comfort mee,Or else ere noone I shalbe dead!'Thus can Sir Cawline say.6When our parish massethat itt was done,And our king was bowne to dine,He sayes, Where is Sir Cawline,That was wont to serue me with ale and wine?7But then answered a curteous knight,Ffast his hands wringinge:'SirCawline's sicke, and like to be deadWithout and a good leedginge.'8'Ffeitch yee downe my daughter deere,Shee is a leeche ffull ffine;I, and take you doe and the baken bread,And drinke he on the wine soe red,And looke no daynti is ffor him to deare,For ffull loth I wold him tine.'9This ladye is gone to his chamber,Her maydens ffollowing nye;'O well,' shee sayth, 'how doth my lord?''O sicke!' againe saith hee.10'I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for shame!Neuer lye here soe cowardlye!Itt is told in my ffathers hall,Ffor my loue you will dye.'11'Itt is ffor your loue, ffayre ladye,That all this dill I drye;Ffor if you wold comfort me with a kisse,Then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse,Noe longer here wold I lye.'12'Alas! soe well you know, Sir knight,'. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .13. . . . . . .I cannott bee your peere:'Ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe,To be your bacheeleere.'14'Vpon Eldrige Hill there growes a thorne,Vpon the mores brodinge;And wold you, sir knight, wake there all nightTo day of the other morninge?15'Ffor the eldrige king,that is mickle of might,Will examine you beforne;And there was neuer manthat bare his liffe awaySince the daythat I was borne.'16'But I will ffor your sake, ffaire ladye,Walke on the bents [soe] browne,And Ile either bring you a readye token,Or Ile neuer come to you againe.'17But this ladye is gone to her chamber,Her maydens ffollowing bright,And Sir Cawlin's gone to the mores soe broad,Ffor to wake there all night.18Vnto midnight [that] the moone did rise,He walked vp and downe,And a lightsome bugle then heard he blow.Ouer the bents soe browne;Saies hee, And if cryance come vntill my hart,I am ffarr ffrom any good towne.19And he spyed, ene a litle him by,A ffuryous king and a ffell,And a ladye bright his brydle led,That seemlye itt was to see.20And soe fast hee called vpon Sir Cawline,Oh man, I redd the fflye!Ffor if cryance come vntill thy hart,I am a-feard least thou mun dye.21He sayes, [No] cryance comes to my hart,Nor ifaith I ffeare not thee;Ffor because thou minged not Christ before,Thee lesse me dreadeth thee.22But Sir Cawline he shooke a speare;The kingwas bold, and abode;And the timber these two children boreSoe soone in sunder slode;Ffor they tooke and two good swords,And they layden on good loade.23But the elridge kingwas mickle of might,And stiffly to the ground did stand;But Sir Cawline, with an aukeward stroke,He brought ffrom him his hand,I, and fflying ouer his head soe hye,[It] ffell downe of that lay land.24And his lady stood a litle thereby,Ffast ringing her hands:'For the maydens louethat you haue most minde,Smyte you my lord no more.25'And hees neuercome vpon Eldrige [Hill],Him to sport, gamon, or play,And to meete noe man of middle-earthAndthat liues on Christs his lay.'26But he then vp andthat eldryge king,Sett him in his sadle againe,Andthat eldryge kingand his ladyeTo their castle are they gone.27And hee tooke then vp andthat eldryge sword,As hard as any fflynt,And soe he did those ringes fiue,Harder then ffyer, and brent.28Ffirst he presented to the kings daughterThe hand, and then the sword,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .* * * * *29'But a serre buffett you haue him giuen,The kingand the crowne,' shee sayd:'I, but four andthirty stripesComen beside the rood.'30And a gyant that was both stiffe [and] strong,He lope now them amonge,And vpon his squier fiue heads he bare,Vnmackley made was hee.31And he dranke then on the kings wine,And hee put the cup in his sleeue,And all thé trembled and were wan,Ffor feare he shold them greeffe.32'Ile tell thee mine arrand, king,' he sayes,'Mine errand what I doe heere;Ffor I will bren thy temples hye,Or Ile haue thy daughter deere;I, or else vpon yond more soe broodThou shalt ffind mee a ppeare.'33The kinghe turned him round about,Lord, in his heart he was woe!Says, Is there noe knight of the Round TableThis matter will vndergoe?34'I, and hee shall haue my broad lands,And keepe them well his liue;I, and soe hee shall my daughter deere,To be his weded wiffe.'35And then stood vp Sir Cawline,His owne errand ffor to say:'Ifaith, I wold to God, Sir,' sayd Sir Cawline,'That soldan I will assay.36'Goe ffeitch me downe my eldrige sword,Ffor I woone itt att ffray:''But away, away!' sayd the hend soldan,'Thou tarryest mee here all day!'37But the hend soldan and Sir CawlineThé ffought a summers day;Now has hee slainethat hend soldan,And brought his fiue heads away.38And the kinghas betaken him his broade lands,And all his venison;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .39'But take you doo and your lands [soe] broad,And brooke them well your liffe;Ffor you promised mee your daughter deere,To be my weded wiffe.'40'Now by my ffaith,' then sayes our king,'Fforthat wee will not striffe,Ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere,To be thy weded wiffe.'41The other morninge Sir Cawline roseBy the dawning of the day,And vntill a garden did he goeHis mattins ffor to say;Andthat bespyed a ffalse steward,A shames deaththat he might dye!42And he lett a lyon out of a bande,Sir Cawline ffor to teare;And he had noe wepon him vpon,Nor noe wepon did weare.43But hee tooke then his mantle of greene,Into the lyons mouth itt thrust;He held the lyon soe sore to the wallTill the lyons hart did burst.44And the watchmen cryed vpon the wallsAnd sayd, 'Sir Cawline's slaine!And with a beast is not ffull litle,A lyon of mickle mayne:'Then the kings daughter shee ffell downe,'For peerlesse is my payne!'45'O peace, my lady!' sayes Sir Cawline,'I haue bought thy loue ffull deere;O peace, my lady!' sayes Sir Cawline,'Peace, lady, ffor I am heere!'46Then he did marry this kings daughter,With gold and siluer bright,And fiftene sonnes this ladye beereTo Sir Cawline the knight.

* * * * *

1And inthat land dwells a kingWhich does beare the bell ouer all,And with him there dwelled a curteous knight,Sir Cawline men him call.

2And he hath a ladye to his daughter,Of ffashyon shee hath noe peere;Knights and lordes they woed her both,Trusted to haue beene her feere.

3Sir Cawline loues her best of onë,But nothing durst hee sayTo discreeue his councell to noe man,But deerlye loued this may.

4Till itt beffell vpon a day,Great dill to him was dight;The maydens loue remoued his mind,To care-bed went the knight.

5And one while he spread his armes him ffroe,And cryed soe pittyouslye:'Ffor the maydens louethat I haue most mindeThis day may comfort mee,Or else ere noone I shalbe dead!'Thus can Sir Cawline say.

6When our parish massethat itt was done,And our king was bowne to dine,He sayes, Where is Sir Cawline,That was wont to serue me with ale and wine?

7But then answered a curteous knight,Ffast his hands wringinge:'SirCawline's sicke, and like to be deadWithout and a good leedginge.'

8'Ffeitch yee downe my daughter deere,Shee is a leeche ffull ffine;I, and take you doe and the baken bread,And drinke he on the wine soe red,And looke no daynti is ffor him to deare,For ffull loth I wold him tine.'

9This ladye is gone to his chamber,Her maydens ffollowing nye;'O well,' shee sayth, 'how doth my lord?''O sicke!' againe saith hee.

10'I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for shame!Neuer lye here soe cowardlye!Itt is told in my ffathers hall,Ffor my loue you will dye.'

11'Itt is ffor your loue, ffayre ladye,That all this dill I drye;Ffor if you wold comfort me with a kisse,Then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse,Noe longer here wold I lye.'

12'Alas! soe well you know, Sir knight,'. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

13. . . . . . .I cannott bee your peere:'Ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe,To be your bacheeleere.'

14'Vpon Eldrige Hill there growes a thorne,Vpon the mores brodinge;And wold you, sir knight, wake there all nightTo day of the other morninge?

15'Ffor the eldrige king,that is mickle of might,Will examine you beforne;And there was neuer manthat bare his liffe awaySince the daythat I was borne.'

16'But I will ffor your sake, ffaire ladye,Walke on the bents [soe] browne,And Ile either bring you a readye token,Or Ile neuer come to you againe.'

17But this ladye is gone to her chamber,Her maydens ffollowing bright,And Sir Cawlin's gone to the mores soe broad,Ffor to wake there all night.

18Vnto midnight [that] the moone did rise,He walked vp and downe,And a lightsome bugle then heard he blow.Ouer the bents soe browne;Saies hee, And if cryance come vntill my hart,I am ffarr ffrom any good towne.

19And he spyed, ene a litle him by,A ffuryous king and a ffell,And a ladye bright his brydle led,That seemlye itt was to see.

20And soe fast hee called vpon Sir Cawline,Oh man, I redd the fflye!Ffor if cryance come vntill thy hart,I am a-feard least thou mun dye.

21He sayes, [No] cryance comes to my hart,Nor ifaith I ffeare not thee;Ffor because thou minged not Christ before,Thee lesse me dreadeth thee.

22But Sir Cawline he shooke a speare;The kingwas bold, and abode;And the timber these two children boreSoe soone in sunder slode;Ffor they tooke and two good swords,And they layden on good loade.

23But the elridge kingwas mickle of might,And stiffly to the ground did stand;But Sir Cawline, with an aukeward stroke,He brought ffrom him his hand,I, and fflying ouer his head soe hye,[It] ffell downe of that lay land.

24And his lady stood a litle thereby,Ffast ringing her hands:'For the maydens louethat you haue most minde,Smyte you my lord no more.

25'And hees neuercome vpon Eldrige [Hill],Him to sport, gamon, or play,And to meete noe man of middle-earthAndthat liues on Christs his lay.'

26But he then vp andthat eldryge king,Sett him in his sadle againe,Andthat eldryge kingand his ladyeTo their castle are they gone.

27And hee tooke then vp andthat eldryge sword,As hard as any fflynt,And soe he did those ringes fiue,Harder then ffyer, and brent.

28Ffirst he presented to the kings daughterThe hand, and then the sword,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

* * * * *

29'But a serre buffett you haue him giuen,The kingand the crowne,' shee sayd:'I, but four andthirty stripesComen beside the rood.'

30And a gyant that was both stiffe [and] strong,He lope now them amonge,And vpon his squier fiue heads he bare,Vnmackley made was hee.

31And he dranke then on the kings wine,And hee put the cup in his sleeue,And all thé trembled and were wan,Ffor feare he shold them greeffe.

32'Ile tell thee mine arrand, king,' he sayes,'Mine errand what I doe heere;Ffor I will bren thy temples hye,Or Ile haue thy daughter deere;I, or else vpon yond more soe broodThou shalt ffind mee a ppeare.'

33The kinghe turned him round about,Lord, in his heart he was woe!Says, Is there noe knight of the Round TableThis matter will vndergoe?

34'I, and hee shall haue my broad lands,And keepe them well his liue;I, and soe hee shall my daughter deere,To be his weded wiffe.'

35And then stood vp Sir Cawline,His owne errand ffor to say:'Ifaith, I wold to God, Sir,' sayd Sir Cawline,'That soldan I will assay.

36'Goe ffeitch me downe my eldrige sword,Ffor I woone itt att ffray:''But away, away!' sayd the hend soldan,'Thou tarryest mee here all day!'

37But the hend soldan and Sir CawlineThé ffought a summers day;Now has hee slainethat hend soldan,And brought his fiue heads away.

38And the kinghas betaken him his broade lands,And all his venison;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

39'But take you doo and your lands [soe] broad,And brooke them well your liffe;Ffor you promised mee your daughter deere,To be my weded wiffe.'

40'Now by my ffaith,' then sayes our king,'Fforthat wee will not striffe,Ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere,To be thy weded wiffe.'

41The other morninge Sir Cawline roseBy the dawning of the day,And vntill a garden did he goeHis mattins ffor to say;Andthat bespyed a ffalse steward,A shames deaththat he might dye!

42And he lett a lyon out of a bande,Sir Cawline ffor to teare;And he had noe wepon him vpon,Nor noe wepon did weare.

43But hee tooke then his mantle of greene,Into the lyons mouth itt thrust;He held the lyon soe sore to the wallTill the lyons hart did burst.

44And the watchmen cryed vpon the wallsAnd sayd, 'Sir Cawline's slaine!And with a beast is not ffull litle,A lyon of mickle mayne:'Then the kings daughter shee ffell downe,'For peerlesse is my payne!'

45'O peace, my lady!' sayes Sir Cawline,'I haue bought thy loue ffull deere;O peace, my lady!' sayes Sir Cawline,'Peace, lady, ffor I am heere!'

46Then he did marry this kings daughter,With gold and siluer bright,And fiftene sonnes this ladye beereTo Sir Cawline the knight.

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